εὖ δ ̓ ἂν ἐπῴκτειρές μ', ὅσα κήδεα κῆρι πεπόνθη,

κἂν ἐγέλας· οὔκουν ἀνδράσι τοῖος ἔρως.

ἦ δι ̓ ἐμὲ φθίνει ἥδ', ὥρας τε μαραίνεται ἄνθος; τοιάδ ̓ ἄρ ̓ ἣν ψαύσῃς σ ̓ ἀπόλωλεν ἀφρῷ. φίλτατε, τλητὰ τέως· σὺ δὲ πρᾶσσ ̓, εὐφραίνεο θυμῷ φροῦδα τὰ πίσθ ̓· οἷόν μ' εἷλεν ἀμηχανίη·

βώλου ἀτεγκτότερος γέγονας κέαρ, ὅς μ' ἐφίλησας·

τίπτ ̓ ἀπατηθείσῃ λείπεται; ἆρα θεός ;

Α. 9.

LXI

O moribus iucunde, mitis adfectu,
candore puerum qui refers, viros mente,
tuo lepore temperans probas iras,
saeclum iuvare natus et secare idem;
te non egestas subditum tulit nummis,
neque optimatum blanda cura corrupit;
sed qui fuisti fidus ac sine offensa,
vivum fovebant, mortuum dolent omnes.

haec laus tibi ingens; non quod hic tuum marmor
contingit ossa principum, cinis reges;
sed innocens quod omnis et pius dicet,
dolore pulsans pectus, Hic iaces, Gai.

LXII

From the forests and highlands

We come, we come :
From the river-girt islands,
Where loud waves are dumb

Listening to my sweet pipings.
The wind in the reeds and rushes,
The bees on the bells of thyme,
The birds on the myrtle bushes,

The cicale above in the lime,
And the lizards below in the grass,
Were as silent as ever old Tmolus was,
Listening to my sweet pipings.

Liquid Peneus was flowing,

And all dark Tempe lay
In Pelion's shadow, outgrowing
The light of the dying day,

Speeded with my sweet pipings.

The Sileni and Silvans and Fauns,

And the Nymphs of the woods and waves,

To the edge of the moist river-lawns,

And the brink of the dewy caves,

And all that then did attend and follow, Were silent with love: as you now, Apollo, With envy of my sweet pipings!

I sang of the dancing stars,

I sang of the daedal Earth,

And of Heaven, and the Giant Wars,

And Love, and Death, and Birth:

Ορέων οἵδ ̓ ἀπό θ ̓ ὑλῶν

LXII

ἀφικάνομεν θοάζοντες, ὑγρὰς ἵν ̓ ἀμφὶ νήσους ποταμοῦ λάβρα καχλάζοντος ἐσίγησε κλύδων

ὑπὸ σύριγγος ἐμῆς·

στρ. α.

τότε σιγῇ δονάκων μὲν πέσον αὖραι, τότε πλήρη θύμ ̓ ἐσίγησε μελισσῶν, ὅ τ ̓ ἄνωθεν τάφε τέττιξ, ταχινός τε σαῦρος ἔστα, τάφε τ ̓ ὄρνις ἐνὶ μύρτοις· ἐπάγη δὲ πάνθ' ὅπως ἡ κατὰ Τμῶλον λίθος, αὐλῶν ὑπὸ σειρῆνος ἐμῶν.

ῥέε μὲν Πηνεὸς ὑγρός,

νάπος ὕπτιον δὲ Τεμπέων ὑπὸ Πηλίου σκιαῖσιν ῥέπε μείζω ῥέπ ̓ ἐς ὄρφνην, ἱερόν τ ̓ ἔφθινε φῶς

ὑπὸ σύριγγος ἐμῆς.

ἀντ. α.

Σατύρων δ ̓ ἔκδραμεν ὄχλος, δράμε Σειληνὸς ἀγρώστης. ἅμα Ναΐς τε προκύψασα μυχῶν καὶ Δρυὰς ὑγρῶν ποταμούς τ ̓ ἔλειπον ὕλας τε, πόθῳ γ ̓ οἱ μὲν ἁλόντες, —σὺ δὲ νῦν φθόνῳ γ', Απόλλων—ὑπό τ ̓ ἴυγγος ἀοιδῶν

ἐσιώπησαν ἐμῶν.

χορὸν ἄστρων γὰρ ἄειδον

χθόνα τ' αὖ δαιδαλέην,

ἐπίφαυσκόν τε Γιγάντων

πολέμους καὶ Διὸς ἕδραν, μερόπων θ ̓

ἅμα γένναν, καὶ ὅδους

ζωῆς ἠδὲ τελευτάς.

μεταβὰς δ ̓ αὖ

τότ ̓ ἐπ ̓ ἄλλον οἶμον ἀμῆς
σύριγγος, πάθος ᾄδον

τὸ παλαιόν, κατ ̓ ἄκρον
Μαίναλον οἷ ̓ ἐπλάγχθην.

μετὰ γὰρ παρθένον ἄξας
δόνακ ̓ ἔσχον καθελών

στρ. β.

ἀντ. β.

And then I changed my pipings,--
Singing how down the valley of Maenalus
I pursued a maiden and clasped a reed:
Gods and men, we all are deluded thus!

It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed:
All wept, as I ween both ye now would,
If envy or age had not frozen your blood,
At the sorrow of my sweet pipings!

SHELLEY.

LXIII

1 Cit. Come, come, we fear the worst: all will be

well.

3 Cit. When clouds are seen, wise men put cn

their cloaks;

When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?
Untimely storms make men expect a dearth :
All may be well; but, if God sort it so,

'Tis more than we deserve, or I expect.

2 Cit. Truly the hearts of men are full of fear;

You cannot reason almost with a man

That looks not heavily and full of dread.

3 Cit. Before the days of change, still is it so: By a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust Ensuing danger; as, by proof, we see,

The water swell before a boist'rous storm.

SHAKESPEARE

δόλος αὑτὸς γὰρ ἐρώτων

ἐπὶ θνητοῖς ὅδ ̓ ἀεὶ κἀθανάτοις·
κάλαμος δ ̓ οἷα ραγείς

μαξ ̓ ἀγκὰς ἔχοντα.
κατέκλαυσαν

τόθ ̓ ἅπαντες, οἳ ̓ ἄν, οἶμαι,
κἂν σφὼ νῦν γε κλύοντες,
φθόνῳ εἰ μὴ φρένας ἢ
γήραϊ δὴ 'παχνούσθην.

LXIII

G. G. A. M.

Α. Ελεν

ἄγαν φοβούμεθ ̓· ὡς τὰ πάνθ ̓ ἕξει καλῶς. Β. καίτοι σοφὸν καλοῖμ ̓ ἂν ὅστις ἂν βροτῶν νεφέλας ἰδών ποτ ̓ ἐγκαλύπτηται κάρα ὅταν δὲ μείζω φύλλα καταπέσῃ χαμαὶ πάρεστι χειμών· ἡλίου δ ̓ ἀπουσίᾳ τίς οὐχὶ νύκτα προσδοκᾷ; φιλεῖ δέ τοι τυφὼς ἄωρος λιμὸν ἔχθιστον φέρειν. τάχ ̓ ἂν καλῶς ἔχοι τάδ'· εἰ δ ̓ οὕτω θεοῖς τελεῖν δέδοκται κρείσσον ̓ ἢ κατ ̓ ἀξίαν ἡμῶν τάδ ̓ ἔσται, χὡς ἔμοιγ ̓ ἀπ ̓ ἐλπίδων. Γ. ἦ πολλὰ πᾶς τις ἐν φρεσὶν δείσας ἔχει·

κοὐκ ἔσθ ̓ ὅτῳ τις εἰς λόγους ἔλθοι ξυνὼν μὴ δεινά πως λεύσσοντι φροντίδων βάρει. Β. φιλεῖ γὰρ εἶναι ταῦτα, πρίν τι πῆμα γῇ

σκήπτειν προταρβεῖ γοῦν τις οὐ διχορρόπως
τὸ μέλλον, οἳ ἂν πρὸς θεῶν ὁρμώμενος

ὡς καὶ θάλασσαν, χεῖμ ̓ ὅταν μέλλῃ βρέμειν, · ἀνθοῦσαν ὑγροῖς εἴδομεν κλυδωνίοις.

J. A. G.